


These Walls Have Ears (And Eyes, and Mouths, and Other Things I Don't Want to Talk About)

by clamtown



Category: Invader Zim
Genre: Cryptids, Gen, Horror, Minor Injuries, Roadtrip, hopefully lol, likely future violence, the rural summer vibes will be strong in this one folks
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-30
Updated: 2020-06-07
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:07:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24448585
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clamtown/pseuds/clamtown
Summary: It's been a year since Dib last saw Zim when the green boy arrives on his doorstep. With the Voot out of commission, Zim needs Dib's help (mostly, his truck) so he can return to...whatever he was doing before he came back. Something is waiting for them up in those woods, though, and it might not let go of them so easily.
Relationships: Dib & Zim (Invader Zim), Dib/Zim (Invader Zim)
Comments: 12
Kudos: 44





	1. Strange Packages

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first fic ever, so I'm trying my best. Not totally sure where this is going, but we're going there together.

The over-sized clock ticked infuriatingly onwards - a constant reminder of how late it was and just how little sleep Dib was going to get tonight. He stared blankly up at the glow-in-the-dark stars adorning his ceiling, but soon found even their faint light annoying. Dib rolled over again, facing the wall. Squeezing his eyes shut, he tried to ignore the clock and the _weird little bug man_ the ticking would not let him forget.

The last time Dib had seen Zim was graduation day, almost a year ago. To say they had been friends at the time of their parting would be an exaggeration, but, at the very least, they had found a sort of balance that did not always end in fighting or threats of World Domination. They still challenged each other, but the conflict usually did not proceed past empty threats. Of course, this occasionally ended in thrown punches. On their best days, though, their conflicts were abandoned in favor of trips to the ice cream stand two towns over.

_("They carry the superior cream," Zim had said in response to Dib's complaint of how much gas this wasted._

_"Why do you have to say it like that?")_

Dib had been surprised to see Zim at graduation, considering there was no obvious reason for him to care for this earth-child achievement. Dib had been even more surprised to see his dad at graduation. At the end of the ceremony, his Dad had found him in the crowd, Gaz in tow. He insisted on taking pictures of the two siblings together, and, at Gaz's protests, declared that Dib's "outstanding achievements must be commemorated!" Confused, though not unpleased, at this sudden change in his father's behavior, Dib hadn't seen Zim slip away through the throng of graduates into the parking lot. That night, after an awkward, forced family dinner, Dib had found himself wandering over to Zim's house. At least, where Zim's house used to be. Instead of the disproportionate monstrosity that Zim called a home, though, all Dib found was an empty lot.

Dib had kept walking, walking, all the way to the edge of town. The sky had been dark, and, this far away from the city-center, he could just make out the bright specs of a few stars.

The ticking continued. On nights like these, it has occurred to Dib that he could just take the clock down.

_("ZIM ONLY CONSUMES THE SUPERIOR CREAM." )_

Or not.

The strange packages started one month after Zim's disappearance. The first came in one of those orange bubble envelopes. It had been addressed to "ENORMOUS-HEAD-BOY," but Dib's address was nowhere to be found, leaving him wondering how the package had found its way to the Membrane's door. There was no return address. Inside, Dib discovered a palm-sized wooden frog painted a bright shade of green. A note attached to the little carving, written in the same god-awful handwriting, read "MAY THIS GREEN ITEM REMIND YOU OF YOUR GREEN OVERLORD." That night, Dib had sat up in his room, just staring at the little wooden creature. _What the fuck is this supposed to mean?_ he thought, turning the figure over in his hands.

Since then, Dib had received monthly "gifts" from Zim, each addressed with similarly insulting nicknames and no actual address. Last September, he received a cowboy hat accompanied by a poorly drawn image of Zim lassoing Dib's head. In January, it had been one crusty mitten, which had almost certainly been left on the road and repeatedly run over by passing cars. The clock arrived a month ago. It was enormous, probably 2 and a half feet in diameter, and its face was plastered with images of some obscure boy band. There was no note this time - just this huge, awful clock that ticked non-stop and interrupted Dib's not-sleep.

 _Ugh._ Dib shoved his face into his pillow and resigned himself to another sleepless night.

_THUNK._

Dib tilted his head to the side.

_What was that?_

He listened but heard no further noises. After a few moments of continuing to pointlessly lay in bed, Dib's curiosity got the better of him. He crept quietly down the stairs, careful not to wake Gaz or Dad. Gaz's fury upon being woken up was unmatched, and, though the sudden concern his father had shown for him since graduation was welcome, Dib was not in the mood for a father-son talk about insomnia right now.

Everything appeared in order in both the living room and the kitchen. Dib scratched his head, wondering what could have made such a loud bump. It was almost like a knock on... _hmm_. Dib approached the front door, still listening for anything out of place. Peeking through the peep-hole, Dib saw nothing but the empty night. Still unsatisfied, he reached for the doorknob. _Can't hurt just to check._

There, on the stoop, was a large box. The box was on it's side, but, stood up, would probably be just as tall as Dib. Dib took a few steps out the door, peering into the darkness.

"Hello?"

Expecting an answer from the street in front of him, the muffled noise from inside the box made Dib yelp in fright. He whirled to face the box and took a step back from it.

"Hello?" he called, more hesitantly this time.

Another muffled noise rose from inside the cardboard before the box began to shake. Suddenly, something sharp poked through and slashed down the side of the box. Dib contemplated how fast he could make it back inside - if he could slam the door before whatever deadly beast Zim had probably mailed him could tear his guts out. He had just made the decision to run for it when the creature freed itself from its cardboard prison and sat up to look at him. Big ruby eyes shone at Dib through the darkness.

"Hello Stinky."

...

Dib slammed the door behind him, then stomped back up to his room. Once he was sat back on his bed, he heard the faint noise of his dad's bedroom door opening. Dib listened for footsteps, but only heard the door close once more. Phew. This would have been a hard one to explain.

A scratching noise at his window made the hair on the back of Dib's neck stand on end. His gaze shot to the glass, where he could once again see those bright ruby eyes staring at him. With a groan, Dib rushed to the window and yanked it open. Zim, who had been smushing his face into the glass for maximum staring-power, tumbled onto Dib's carpet with an undignified squeak. Without missing a beat, Dib grabbed a pillow and brandished it at the little bug man, who, for the record, was way less little than he had been when he left.

Zim opened his mouth to speak, but, before more than a "H-" left his mouth, Dib wacked him square in the no-nose with the pillow. With a hiss, Zim reached to grab the offending weapon as Dib yanked it back, but the alien's sharp claws caught in the fabric. In the next moment, Dib's room swirled with feathers. Dib continued to try to thwap Zim with the now-empty pillow sack.

"Get out of my room!" he whispered.

"WHAT."

"Shut the fuck up and get out of my room! You’re gonna wake up my dad!"

"I HAVE JUST ARRIVED. I AM NOT LEAVING"

"Get the fuck out of here!"

"ZIM WAS IN A BOX. DO YOU KNOW HOW UNCOMFORTABLE THAT WAS? ZIM WAS ALL FOLDED LIKE ONE OF YOUR BURRITOS. I AM NOT LEAVING."

"SHUT THE FUCK UP." At Dib's sudden yell, both boys were quiet for a moment. Dib waited with bated breath before he heard the sound of his father's door opening.

"Get under the bed," Dib hissed, grabbing Zim's arm and attempted to drag him.

"Eh?" Zim would not budge from his place, splayed on the middle of the floor.

"Shit okay, um, here." Dib threw his comforter over the green boy just as a soft knock came from the door.

"Everything okay in there, son?" Professor Membrane called nervously through the door.

"Everything's fine," Dib replied, attempting to subdue the blanket-wrapped boy wriggling on his floor.

"Are you sure? I heard yelling."

Without warning, Zim's hand darted out from under the blanket and grasped Dib's ankle in a vice grip. Dib yelped as the claws dug into his skin.

"Dib?" His Dad sounded worried now, and with a pang of fear Dib heard the doorknob start to turn.

"Sorry Dad! I'm just…just playing video games," Dib managed to proclaim, and the doorknob stopped. There was a pause.

"Nothing that belongs to Gaz, correct?"

"Just some computer games I bought online, no worries!" Dib heard his father's sigh of relief.

"Good, good. We both know how that would go. Even I couldn't help you then." Anotehr pause. Zim's claws still clung to Dib's ankle, but his grip grew more relaxed.

"Well, try to keep it down."

"Yep, sorry dad!"

Dib could hear his father's footsteps retreating down the hall and breathed a sigh of relief. He kicked his ankle out of Zim's grip, wincing as he stepped away from teh tangled blanket-boy. No longer beingheld down, Zim rose slowly to a sitting position under the blanket, pulling the whole thing over his head to reveal his disgruntled expression.

"How dare you imprison Zim in your dirty cloth tortilla!" Zim declared, his tone admittedly less bold than before.

"What are you doing here, Zim?"

The green boy stood, brushing himself off with an air of disgust. When he felt sufficiently clean, he gave Dib a quick glance before becoming very interested in staring at his own hands.

"Zim requires your assistance."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I made a lot of...choices...here, and we're gonna see how that goes. I have a lot of this planned out, but I've also changed the outline like 6 times. We're gonna get there, folks.
> 
> So far I haven't tagged anything as far as future warnings, but I will update this with every chapter! I just currently do not know what's gonna happen, let alone what I'm going to need to tag!
> 
> I'm also on tumblr as clamtown, so come say hi! I'll be posting art from this fic on there! :)
> 
> Feel free to comment/give criticism!


	2. The Crash

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After disappearing for a year, Zim arrived on Dib's doorstep in the middle of the night, asking for the human's help. Zim went through a lot to get here.

"Gir! Stop that horrible noise you're making." The little robot lifted his head out of the Doritos bag it had been previously stuffed in.

"I"m not makin' no noises! Just eatin!"

"Eh?" Zim turned to look at his robot, confused. If Gir hadn't been making that noise, then what-

With a jolt, the Voot began rapidly descending through the cloud cover it had been riding above. Mist obscured Zim's view of the outside world while the Voot twisted like a top - the combination making the Irken's head spin. Zim lunged for the controls, attempting to wrench his ship from gravity's clutches. He desperately pressed a few buttons, and, for a moment, the ship leveled out. With a sigh, Zim stepped back and tried to ascertain just how far they had fallen. Before he had a chance, though, the Voot gave one final screech before the engines died altogether.

Out the windshield, all Zim could see was the cloud that encased them. He briefly attempted to restart the engine, but, realizing it was a lost cause, retreated back to his seat. Grabbing GIR on the way, Zim strapped himself and the robot into the pilot's seat just as the ship began crashing through the tree line.

"Weeeeee!" Gir squealed as the Voot hit the first few boughs of the spruce trees, the deafening noise of snapping branches adding to Zim's feelings of imminent doom. He squeezed his eyes shut and braced for impact.

...

Zim could feel the wind on his face. He was in the passenger seat of Dib's truck. They had the windows rolled all the way down. It was that first really warm day of spring when everyone seems to crawl out of whatever holes they had been hiding in all winter and face the world once more. After school, neither of the boys had felt like heading home just yet, so they were once again heading to Henny's Creamery - a 45-minute drive that was well worth it for some quality ice cream. Zim stuck his hand out the window of the truck, letting the wind carry it up and down. Some music Zim didn't recognize was playing over the radio, but he hardly paid any attention to it. Instead, he was happy to listen to the sounds of the wind and Dib's truck as it rattled its way down Route 9.

"What are you thinking about?" Dib questioned, breaking the comfortable silence.

"Nothing," Zim replied, still watching the way the breeze guided his hand through the gusts of air.

"So," Dib started, not taking his eyes off the road, "we're graduating in, what, three weeks?"

"Hmm," Zim hummed.

"What's your plan?"

"Eh?" Zim turned his head toward Dib.

"I mean, you've got some plans for once school is over, right?"

"Do not question Zim's plans! Zim has tons of plans! Glorious plans!" Zim was getting worked up, but Dib remained unimpressed.

"Cool. What are they?"

"Why do you want to know, Smelly? Planning to ruin my plans? You can't! Zim's plans are un-ruinable!"

"I don't mean world domination, Bug-Boy. I mean, what are you going to do all the time once all this is over?"

"Zim will do what he has always done. Take over your planet and make your life as unpleasant as possible."

"What about when I'm not there?"

"Then Zim will find you, and he will continue to un-pleasant your life."

"I don't think that's a verb."

"DO NOT QUESTION ZIM'S HERBS," Zim shouted, his voice cracking. Dib muffled a laugh.

"You mean verbs."

"HERBS."

...

Zim could still feel the wind on his face, but it was colder now. Harder. With dull confusion, he realized his eyes were closed. Opening them, everything made even less sense. Jumbled shapes filled his vision, and he tried to raise his hands to his eyes to rub them. Looking up, he realized his arms were hanging above his head. _What?_ Finally, he began to piece together the garbled information his senses had produced. He was strapped into the pilot's seat of the Voot. The Voot had landed upside down and was now lodged into the dirt of some hillside. Craning his head to scan the area, Zim winced at a twinge in his neck. He hoped that was the worst of the damage. Wiggling his fingers, and eventually reclaiming feeling in his hands, Zim reached up to unbuckle himself and his oddly quiet SIR unit from the seatbelt. With a plop, both alien and robot fell to the ceiling of the Voot.

Concern suddenly overtook him, and Zim found himself scrambling to his knees to examine the little robot. GIR was laying facedown, unresponsive. Zim quickly flipped him onto his back and began searching for damage, but, as soon as GIR was facing upright, he screamed at the top of his lungs.

"WAKEY WAKEY," he cried, sitting up with remarkable speed. Zim cursed, jumping back. Still, he felt a rush of relief from seeing that his companion was still kicking. After checking the robot over, Zim found that, like his ship, GIR's thrusters were not fully operational. Their only other hope of a quick departure from the forest dashed, Zim was still relieved to find that GIR was only as abnormal as always. Zim then examined his own injuries. The painkillers in his Pak had seen to his sore neck, but the deep slash he found on the back of his leg would take some time to heal. Otherwise, a few minor scrapes and lots of dirt were the only signs of the crash. Zim grabbed the sparse first aid kit from the back of the Voot and gave the cut a haphazard dressing - no need to get any filthy earth particles in the wound. Gir sat a few feet away, tossing pinecones into his mouth like popcorn. Zim grimaced and began to take stock of his ship's damages.

The sun had been setting steadily since Zim first awoke, and the harsh shadows of the remaining light made it hard to parse the details of his ship's condition. Still, Zim could see that he ceiling of the Voot had dented inwards, and, inspecting the ground underneath where it had landed, Zim discovered a large rock that had jabbed into the roof. One of the thrusters was missing, likely tossed far behind them in the forest. The hull sported countless dents and punctures from the rough terrain it had encountered in the unrestrained descent. Narrowing his eyes, Zim concluded that there was no way he was getting his craft off the ground without some considerable maintenance. Maintenance he did not have the resources for in his current location.

Still, Zim crawled back into the compressed cabin of the Voot, carefully avoiding the sharp scraps of metal that poked out at various angles until he reached the control board. There, he tried to reboot the ship's communications. Maybe he could call someone for help. Maybe he could call - well, it didn't matter who he would call, because until power could be restored to the ship, all communications were down.

 _What now?_ Zim crawled back into the open air of the forest and freed a GPS device from his PAK in order to ascertain his location. Though his current coordinates put him in the center of a massive forest, he noticed a thin line leading very close to his location. A road, perhaps. He looked around, and, Yes! Far to his right, he could just make out the wide path of an abandoned logging road through the dense foliage. Tracking the thin line on his map, Zim found that, in a few miles, it would lead to a cluster of buildings on the edge of a large lake. A town.

Fixing the Voot was not an option. Zim's best hope was to reach civilization, or as close to it as humans came anyway. Though the thought of asking for assistance from strange humans disgusted the mighty Zim, he admittedly felt a tinge of hope at the thought of being able to contact...someone who could help him.

Yes, this was a good plan. Zim was sure of it. Zim makes the best plans.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to those who left kudos/comments on the last chapter! I really appreciate your kind words/thoughts :) I hope you guys like this one. Again, please feel free to leave criticism/questions/whatever in the comments!
> 
> EDIT: I've already finished Chapter 3, it just needs editing. I really never thought I'd write fic but ngl putting new chapters up and getting feedback? *chefs kiss* wonderful. I got called back to work, starting tomorrow, so I'm not sure I'll be able to work on this as much as I have these past three days, but I'm hoping I can keep some of this good momentum going!


	3. A Night in the Valley

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After crash-landing in the middle of the woods, Zim and Gir must make their way to the nearby town to seek help. It should be a walk in the park. 
> 
> It's not.

After three hours of stumbling along the unkempt road, Zim was - he wasn't _doubting_ his plan, of course, but perhaps there were some additional calculations he could have run that may have produced an even more perfect plan.

Before departing the crash site, Zim donned his disguise and gathered and other items that may help him once he reached the town. Zim had then scooped GIR up and set off on his PAK legs. He had not often traveled on foot over terrain like this, though, so Zim had not accounted for how deep the sharp ends of his legs would sink into the damp, mossy earth. The road had long been left in disrepair, and, where it had certainly been hardened by countless heavy logging trucks in years past, it was now soft and covered in dense brush. Zim continued to struggle along on his extended appendages, but, after one of the legs got caught in the soft pulp of a fallen log and caused the Irken to topple to the ground, he modified his plan to include walking on his normal, not-so-sharp feet _. It would be ideal to conserve as much energy as possible_ , the rational side of Zim asserted.

The sun had set hours ago, and the cold breeze sent a chill from Zim's antennae to his squeedilyspooch. Despite the cold, Zim found himself yawning. He hadn't gotten much sleep the night before. There had been a time when Zim had never required sleep at all - previous years saw a Zim who could remain active and hell-bent on world domination for weeks, months, without pause. He had been separated from the rest of the Irken race, and their technology, for a long time, though, and he was _tired_.

Rubbing his eyes and pushing down the wave of exhaustion that slowed his steps, Zim pushed onwards. The flashlight from his Pak illuminated the road in front of them, but even its light did little to pierce the shadows that lay between the pines.

If it was possible to hum and scream at the same time, that would be the only way to describe the noise Gir was making. For a while, Zim ignored it. At the start of their journey, the recognizable nonsense at least gave Zim a sense of normalcy. Soon, though, Zim found himself straining to hear anything he could over the discordant music the SIR unit produced. Finally, Zim could not take it anymore.

"SILENCE, GIR. I cannot hear," Zim scowled at the little robot.

"MASTER CAN'T HEAR? OH NO! CAN YOU HEAR ME NOW?" Gir said, before letting out an ear-(antennae?)-splitting scream. Some birds that had been roosting in one of the nearby trees took off with a chorus of squawks. Zim just stared at Gir, disappointed but not surprised.

"Just...hum silently, Gir."

The robot saluted him, then looked increasingly frustrated as he attempted to "hum silently." It appeared almost painful. Still, finally, it was quiet enough for Zim to hear the noises of the forest around them. As he and Gir trekked ever closer to town, the trees seemed to grow even taller. Their dark forms stood in ominous sillouette against a sky full of stars.

Before Zim had left, he just assumed that all of Earth offered the same pitiful view of the night sky as the city had. In his travels since then, though, he had been happy to discover that the less populated sections of the globe traded the brightness of streetlamps for the twinkling of stars. Where Earth was unfamiliar and unwelcoming, Zim found comfort in the sight of the dark expanse he knew well.

The stars hanging above the forest were brighter than most, but even their familiar light felt cold here. Something heavy hung in the air, and the tension in Zim's shoulders grew with every step. He found himself jumping at even the slightest sounds of branches breaking below him and Gir's feet, or the eerie rustle of the spruce boughs high above. The road they followed began leading them downhill. Even with his enhanced vision, Zim could not see far into inky shadows that surrounded their path. At the bottom, the path turned sharply towards the west, and Zim found that they were now walking along the middle of a deep valley. With nothing but black both ahead and behind them, and hills rising to both their left and right, Zim felt trapped.

Suddenly, Zim heard a branch snap behind him. Whipping around, flashlight above his head, he peered into the darkness. Gir stopped and turned as well.

"Who's there? Is it a new friend?" He took a few steps in front of Zim.

"Quiet, Gir," Zim barked, straining his eyes to try to catch any shapes in the darkness. Without warning, Gir ran into the shadows.

"HELLO NEW FRIEND," he squealed, disappearing past Zim's field of vision.

"Gir!" Zim screamed into the void, but was answered only by silence. He waited, but only the sound of the wind filled the empty air. "Gir?"

Nothing.

"Gir!" Zim shouted again, his throat tight with fear. "Gir, come back here right now! Your master requires you!" The forest provided no answer, and with a curse, Zim began to race back down the path. He could hear branches snapping in front of him, and he tried to keep the fright from clouding his thoughts. His head pounded as his boots thudded dully on the pine-needle covered ground. With a jolt, Zim realized that the sounds of branches snapping were not only in front of him, but had also moved to either side. In the next few paces, he noticed that the sound of his footsteps had doubled. He could hear the muffled footsteps of someone - or something - else about 10 feet back. He was surrounded. He had been chasing Gir, but now he was the one being pursued.

"Gir!" he cried desperately, and he could almost see dark hands reaching out of the brush to snag his legs and bring him to the ground. He was panting loudly now, and he could hear his Pak whirring from the exhertion. Not now, not here! he thought. A rock caught his foot, and he yelped, almost stumbling to the ground. Quickly righting himself, he hurried forward. "Gir!"

"Master?"

In an instant, the crashing in the forest to either side stopped, and he swore he could hear the footsteps behind him retreating. "Gir?" Zim took a few steps forward, and, there, in the bright beam of his flashlight, was Gir. He was sitting right in the middle of the path, smiling as if nothing had happened.

"Hi Master! Where did my new friend go?" Zim didn't reply - he just grabbed the robot and pulled him into a hug. "Master?" Gir questioned, confused.

Zim could feel his legs shaking as he held Gir close. Panting, he tried to calm himself. Breath in. _It was nothing._ Breath out. _Just the wind_. Breathe in. _The wind was making it sound like branches were breaking._ Breathe out. _There were no footsteps behind him._ Breathe in. _Invaders don't feel fear._ Breathe out. _Invaders don't feel fear._ Breath in. Breath out. Breathe.

"Master?"

At the sound of Gir's voice, Zim released his arms from where they had been squeezed tightly around the robot. Gir fell to the dirt with plop, unbothered.

"We must move on, Gir. We have a long way to go." Once again, Irken and robot set off down the road. While they walked, Zim pulled out the GPS. Yes, their walk was far from over, but they had made a lot of progress. Still, Zim's panicked sprint backwards had set them back quite a bit. Zim cursed himself.

_Stupid, there was nothing there. Just Gir being ridiculous._ Zim thought back to Dib's insane theories, of beasts and creatures that lived in dark places and waited to prey on humans. _Just stupid human super-stitching_. Yes, these silly stories must have infected Zim's superior reasoning circuitry and caused an error. He would have to take a look at his Pak once he was somewhere with light and tools.

To Zim's great relief, another 30 minutes of walking saw the trail turn sharply towards the south once more, towards town. They ascended, and with each foot of altitude, Zim's confidence raised a little more. _Even if there were some of these "creeptids" in the woods, what could they do against the mighty Zim?_ The irken chuckled to himself. No, no creatures would dare to attack him. Zim, his ego intact once more, barely registered the coppery scent that floated towards him on the breeze. Hmm, that almost smells like - but, the winds changed, and the smell was gone. Zim did not question it further, as he was soon distracted by the sight in front of him.

The ground had leveled out - they had reached the top of the hill. From here, he could see mountains stretching out for miles, the rays of the rising sun brushing the peaks with the soft glow of morning. Far below, Zim spotted a cluster of lights next to a lake. The end was in sight, and, with the light of day growing stronger by the minute, the horrors of the night before were hardly more than a bad dream. With new determination, Zim took the first step towards the light. Gir resumed his audible humming, and this time, Zim listened, and, if he concentrated, he could even make out the tune Gir had butchered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We got some spooky times comin', folks. Gotta admit, this whole fic is me indulging this idea I had for a separate work that I just cannot figure out how to write. So this is kind of a test run, but I'm loving writing it so far! This isn't like, the best writing in the world, but I feel a lot less pressure than when I'm trying to write original stuff, which is very nice!
> 
> I'm considering boosting the rating to M - I'm really not into writing any explicit content, so there won't be any of that, but I think I might go ham on the creepy stuff, and I want to make sure I don't make anyone uncomfortable! 
> 
> I've got the next two chapters written, and they need some editing, but keep an eye out for those soon! I just got back to work after two months of quarantine, and I thought it was gonna kill the time I have to work on this fic, but instead I work on this at work because there's no work to do. At work. Huh. 
> 
> My name is clamtown on tumblr as well, I'm following like 6 people right now and would love to follow more, so feel free to hit me up on there!


	4. Inga's Diner

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a harrowing night in the woods, Zim and Gir finally make it back to civilization.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last background chapter explaining what happened to Zim before he showed upon Dib's doorstep. Next chapter, we're back to shenanigans with the boyz.

  
Zim stood in front of the fading sign, happy to finally see real evidence of habitation. At the end of the logging road, Zim and Gir had encountered a large yellow gate, held shut with a chain. On a nearby tree, a posted sign warned them that they had trespassed on private property. Why anyone would want to own such a horrid piece of land was beyond Zim, but at least they were able to continue their journey along a paved road. Another mile, and they had come to the big, sun-bleached sign that marked the town line. "Welcome to Spruce Hills," it read, "Population: 523." Below that, in smaller, more ornate script, was what Zim guessed to be the town's motto. " _You'll Miss it When You Go!_ " 

_Not likely_ , Zim thought.

It seemed that Spruce Hills had not yet woken up when Zim arrived at the center of town. This strip housed a cluster of businesses - mom-and-pop variety stores, pharmacies, and a single bank. Behind the buildings to Zim's left he glimpsed the waters of the lake beyond. Having no desire to get a closer look at the polluted, poisonous body of fetid water, Zim kept to the the street. With every storefront Zim walked by, his feelings of relief faded a little more., Each of them still had their closed signs up. His Pak told him it was already 10 AM - past when most Earth-businesses would open. Despite the warm light of the sun above, Zim shivered as he glanced into the darkened windows of an old-fashioned candy shop. Something in the shadows reminded him of last night's darkness, and, with the empty buildings to either side, he couldn't help but be reminded of his night in the valley. Gir, however, had no such recollection and was instead very excited by the store's merchandise.

"I'MMA GONNA EAT ALL THAT CANDY," he announced before lunging for the window. Zim barely caught him by the leg before the robot dove headfirst through the glass. Zim did not like the way Gir's scream had echoed down the street, the sharp cry ringing out before floating back them. Gir struggled in Zim's grip, reaching desperately towards the candy he could see just beyond the window. When he discoverd that he couldn't break out of Zim's group, he began to wail incoherantly. The noise grated on Zim, making him even more aware how out-of-place they were. He spoke to the robot in a hoarse whisper.

"If you are silent, Zim will buy you many candies."

"BUT I WANT _THESE_ CANDIES," Gir argued.

"Zim will get you _DOUBLE_ these candies if you be quiet immediately!" At this, Gir gave an ear-splitting "WOO" before going limp. Zim set him down and continued up the street.

"Goodbye, candies," Gir tenderly put his hand to the glass before following.

Just as they were nearing the end of the row of buildings, Zim's hope of finding a phone he could use crumbling, they came upon a small diner. It was nestled between a souvenir shop and a run-down liquor store, but, where the other buildings were dark and foreboding, the diner was warm and welcoming. The front was painted a pleasant yellow, and a neon sign reading "Inga's Diner" shone even brighter than the sunlight. Inside, Zim could see that the town was far from asleep. The small restaurant was packed, each seat taken by someone talking happily with their neighbors. Everyone appeared so friendly, and Zim concluded that there would certainly be someone who could assist him.

"Ah, you see Gir? Zim's plan is working perfectly." With that, the Irken pulled the door open. A soft chime announced their entrance, but only one of the waitresses turned to see who had come in. When she locked eyes with Zim, her smile faltered a bit. Zim almost wondered if he imagined this, though, because, as soon as she reached them, her smile was wider than ever.

"Welcome to Inga's Diner, let me get you two settled!" She beckoned them to follow, leading them to a small booth in the corner. Zim sat on one side, and, with some effort, Gir hopped up on the other seat.

"Oh, how cute! Your little dog thinks he's a person!" She reached down and patted Gir's head. The robot beamed up at her.

"Yes, yes, he's very...smart," Zim agreed with a forced smile. He eyed the waitress. She was on the shorter side. Her dirty-blonde hair was pulled back into a low pony-tail. Overall, Zim would say she was relatively average. Something about her was...intriguing, though. Her smile was warm, just as warm as the diner. With a start, Zim found that his own smile had gone from forced to genuine . Her name tag said "Inga."

"This is your diner?" Zim questioned. 

"Huh? Oh!" she gestured to her nametag, "No, I'm not _the_ Inga. That's my great, great aunt."

"I see. What is so great about her?" Inga laughed at this, leaving Zim confused.

"You're funny. Where are you from?" She questioned.

"Oh, er, very far away," he answered dumbly. She narrowed her eyes at him, and Zim fidgeted under her gaze. Suddenly, she laughed again. Most human laughs could be grating on Zim's antennae, but Inga's was like a song that reminds one of home. 

"Very mysterious, I see." She pulled a pen and notebook out of her apron and fixed her gaze on Zim again. "Now, what can I get for you?" 

Gir opened his mouth, but Zim spoke quickly before the robot could break their cover.

"Z-I'll have two plates of waffles, please!" Zim stated, louder than necessary. The folks sitting at the next table glanced over, only now becoming aware of Zim's presence. Out of the corner of his eye, Zim could see an older, bearded man elbow the man next to him and nod in Zim's direction. Like Inga, the bearded man had something about him that felt almost inviting. Zim broke eye-contact quickly, concerned at how strangely trusting he felt of this man and the plain-looking waitress. 

"Ok, two plates of waffles coming up! Anything to drink?" Zim's eyes darted to the menu that sat untouched in the middle of the table and picked what he saw first.

"Two vanilla milkshakes."

"Looks like someone's got a sweet tooth this morning! Alright, I'll have that out to you soon." With that, Inga walked back towards the counter. The bright atmosphere of the diner made it hard to be burdened by the terrors of the night before, and Zim soon found himself relaxing into the vaguely sticky cushions of the red, vinyl booth. As the minutes passed, though, Zim could not escape the feeling that they were being watched. The happy chatter of the rest of the patrons remained unaffected, but, every so often, he would almost catch one of the other customers staring at him. A creeping feeling of dread was building. He kicked his feet against he base of the booth anxiously. 

...

When Zim and Gir had finished their food - Zim eating nervously while keeping an eye on their surroundings, Gir swallowing everything whole (including the plate) - Inga came over with the bill. After she dropped the check on the table and turned to walk away, Zim stopped her.

"Eh, Inga?"

"What's up, sweetie?" Discomfort flaring at her use of this term of endearment, but feeling urged on by her glowing smile, Zim continued sheepishly.

"Is there a phone Zi - I mean, I may be permitted to use?" She looked at him with pity.

"Aw, ours up and died this morning. What's the trouble?"

"I see. I just needed to call...a friend." When Zim explained his destination, Inga raised her eyebrows.

"You're a long way from home. It'll be at least two days before your friend could get here. Maybe you could take a bus?" Zim laid down his payment and considered the idea.

"That would be acceptable," he agreed. Inga grabbed the check and the cash.

"Only trouble is, the bus station’s in the next town over. Place called Hawleyville. It’ll be a long walk.” The thoughts of another hike along unfamiliar roads did not please ZIm, but he supposed it would have to do. “If you get back out ther on main street, and go right, that road’ll eventually lead you right to Hawleyville. There’s a little gas station, and, if you ask the cashier inside, they can point you in the right direction.”  
Zim thanked Inga for her help, then ushered Gir out of the restaurant. Distracted by the dread of more walking, Zim didn’t notice the bearded man get up to follow.  
…

Inga watched the weird guy and his dog leave. The look in her eyes was almost sad. This look turned to confusion when she realized that, though she had given them two plates, there was now only one on the table. Picking the single plate up, she noticed a note underneath, along with a few more dollars. Inga deciphered the messy script.  
“Sorry my dog consumed your very great aunt’s plate.”  
What a weird guy.

…  
“I’cn give you a ride.”  
“Eh?” Zim jumped at the sound of a voice behind him. Turning, he was surprised to find that the bearded man from the diner had followed him out. With is hat in his hands and a good-natured smile on his face, Zim had never been so off-put by a human in his life. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'all I am obsessed with small-town diners and their weird vibes. Road trips for me are like, 10% about where we are going, 10% Gas Stations That Sell Slingshots Shaped Like Animals, and 80% "how many random 50's themed diners can I stop at on the way there and back?" 
> 
> There are definitely some of those weird vibes goin' on in Spruce Hills, and, as you have probably guessed, we aren't done with the town (or the weirdly friendly people in it) just yet. 
> 
> Hope you guys like it!


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